Dress Up
by MischiefMalfoys
Summary: Gilbert wouldn't dream of wearing anything other than his military uniform - Especially not something as stuffy and immobilizing as formal French court wear. Unfortunately for him, when his prince has his mind set on something, he won't stop until he gets what he wants. Just some young!Fritz and Prussia adorkableness Read and Review!


"Come on!"

"No!"

"Wear it!"

"I'd sooner march into Austria and begin licking his boots before I-"

"Now that's just a little too far, _Herr Gilbert-_"

"Nevermind him, Keith, he doesn't mean it!"

"I'm being serious, Fritz!"

Wilhelmina looked up from her book, giving a disapproving glance towards her brother's quarters while the sound of yelling and various objects toppling over filled the air. It had been a good fifteen minutes since Frederick, Keith and Hans dragged poor Feldmarschall Bielschmidt in there to "Make him look more appropriate,". The princess didn't know why her younger brother was so adamant about making the personification of their nation dress in anything but his military garb to the ball; Personally, she thought that the Feldmarschall looked handsome enough on his own. But once Frederick made up his mind about something, it would take an entire battalion and more to convince him otherwise.

She glanced at the clock mounted on the wall. They had to get going soon or else their father was going to throw a fit. Closing the book she was reading, the princess stood up from the lounger where she sat and made her way to the door, the sound of struggling, growling and laughter growing louder with every step.

Gott, what exactly were those boys _doing _to Herr Bielschmidt?

"Frederick!" she called, knocking lightly on the door, "Hurry it up! We'll be late if we don't leave in the next ten minutes or so and you know how _vater _gets!"

"See? We're already late!"

"We wouldn't be if you would just put the damn thing on!"

"With all due respect, Herr Bielschmidt, it does suit you,"

"Yes, it looks good!"

"Hey! I don't you all side with him!"

"I'm the crown prince," Wilhelmina raised a brow. Never had she heard her brother say his title with such pride before, "Of course they sided with me!"

"Well I'm the personification of this nation so-" the sound of choking followed afterwards. Alright, now Wilhelmina had to see what was going on behind those doors. Taking the doorknob, she twisted it and found it to be unlocked. She pushed the door open, ready to scold her brother and his friends for taking so long but all the words left her mouth when she saw the scene before her.

Hans and Keith were holding Gilbert's hands down while Frederick stood behind the older man, practically strangling him with a cravat - But the Feldmarschall was probably the biggest shock to see. Instead of his usual Prussian blue military coat, breeches and boots - He was wearing a lace-trimmed cloak of the same colour, and the boots were replaced with stockings and regular black shoes. His hair had all been slicked back, save for a few wayward strands here and there.

"And - Done!" Frederick announced triumphantly, finishing his work with the cravat while the anthropomorphic country hung his head. "Come on, Gilbert, it doesn't look as terrible as you think!"

"I swear to Gott, Fritz, if I look like a French prostitute, you're going to have to drag me to the throne room to get me to swear allegiance on your coronation day," Gilbert grumbled as the three boys around him laughed, still refusing to look up at the mirror to stare at himself.

"You look far from a prostitute, Herr Bielschmidt!" Hans laughed, patting his hand gently while young Keith nodded from his other side.

"You look like a proper gentleman!" the youngest in the room piped up, then grew quiet, rethinking this words, "N-Not that you weren't before, Feldmarschall!"

"You all know how unawesome it is to lie to your country?" Gilbert grumbled jokingly.

"Mein Gott, Gilbert, we're not lying!" Frederick said, sounding exasperated. He turned towards the door to look at his sister. Wilhelmina had been wondering when the boys would notice her presence. Hans and Keith immediately stood straighter upon realizing that the princess was in their midst while Frederick just pointed an accusing finger at Gilbert, "Tell him, Wilhelmina!"

_Finally, _Gilbert thought. Someone who had a shred of rational thinking around here. As much as he loved and admired his prince, the boy was sometimes a little too crazy for his own good (and it filled Gilbert with a mixed sense of excitement and fear for his future once Fritz was seated on the throne). Wilhelmina was a little bit more rational - Still as crazy as her brother - But more rational. Once she says that he didn't look too good in these stuffy robes, she'd tell Fritz and then he could take them off and get dressed in his nice, comfortable -

"It does look good,"

Wait - WHAT. The Prussian personification had to do a double take at the princess who regarded him with a genuine smile, that mischievous twinkle that both siblings shared present in her eyes. "But I -" he turned to the mirror and couldn't help but let out a gasp of surprise. He caught Fritz's amused smirk in the reflection and he would happily tease his future king about it now but-

Damn. He did look good.

Curse Frederick and his fashion choices.

More importantly, curse Francis and his culture that his prince _adored._

"See?" Frederick reached up to the front to straighten the cravat a bit more, "It's not so bad now, is it?"

Gilbert rolled his eyes, tugging down on the neck cloth to loosen it a bit. "Meh, I suppose. But let me make one thing clear.," he stared down his prince with a look of feigned seriousness, "This outfit looks _awesome_ because _I'm_ wearing it and not because it's _'the lastest fashion'_ from France. And for the record, I still think my uniform is more comfortable than... _This!_"

"Whatever you say, Gilbert," the young prince grinned cheekily at the older man.

Wilhelmina rolled her eyes, chuckling lightly, "Alright, now that that's done and over with, let's board the carriage and get to the ball before we're late."

"I agree," Frederick nodded, stealing once last glance at his reflection before proceeding to walk out the door, Hans and Keith in tow. Wilhelmina shook her head in an amused fashion. Her father and Frederick himself may doubt his ability to rule, but if he could wrestle the notoriously steadfast Feldmarschall Bielschmidt into French Court dress - Wilhelmina was sure he would do just fine.

"I was counting on you, Wilhelmina..."

The princess looked up at the tall soldier beside her and brought a hand up to her mouth to conceal her giggle. "I apologize, Feldmarschall, but I was merely saying the truth! You do look good in proper dress,"

"Ah, it's just for one night, I suppose," Gilbert scoffed, starting to walk to the main entrance beside his princess.

"You spoil Frederick too much," Wilhelmina mused, "You always let him have his way with you, whether it be putting you into proper dress or-" she looked around, making sure no one was around to hear, "-supporting his decision to skip out on his lessons to learn other things,"

"We have a condition when he skips out on lessons," Gilbert answered plainly with a shrug, "I'll cover for him so he can meet with his Flute tutor as long as I get to sit him down and talk about military theory with him later in the day, it's a fair trade."

"Why do you do it?" Wilhelmina asked after a pause, surprising the nation. "I... I mean, you are the personification of our country. You are under my father - the king's - rule. I assumed that his will is your will since you carry out his orders... So why do you help Frederick escape father?"

Gilbert blinked his red eyes, stopping right at the entry way, feeling the cold night wind blow on his face. "I respect and am loyal to _Mein Konig_," he started, "But it hurts me when I see the way he treats Fritz. His son is so cunning, so steadfast and smart to the point that it annoys the _Scheiße _out of me at times," he caught himself swear but relaxed when Wilhelmina laughed, "But he can't see that. Every time he yells at or punishes Frederick, I see a little more light leave his eyes and be replaced with equal parts rebellious anger and self doubt. The anger can be turned into a driving force but I can't have a king who doubts himself - Especially if he's got so much awesome stuff to not doubt about himself."

The princess was stunned by the Feldmarschall's explanation. She knew the moment that her and Frederick found out that he was the mysterious man from their mother's stories, a bond had formed between Gilbert and her brother. She regarded the personification as a friend, but she could tell that Frederick thought of him as something more like family. In fact, Wilhelmina was sure that in her brother's mind, his family consisted of their mother, her, Hans, Keith, Augustus and Gilbert. She wondered if she knew just how much Gilbert actually cared, or if he was just like her and believed that since he was immortal, he avoided forming close bonds.

"_Danke, Herr Bielschmidt," _she whispered quietly, only intended for his ears, "For watching over my brother - For watching over us."

"_Bitte, Mein awesome Prinzessin," _The Prussian Field Marshall grinned back.

"Are you two coming or not?!"

Both of them turned to look to see Frederick with his head poked out of the window. "_Kommen, Mein bruder!" _Wilhelmina waved back.

"Shall we be off then?"

"One more thing..."

Gilbert uttered a noise of confusion as his princess reached up to his head and began ruffling his white hair until it wasn't pristinely slicked back any more. "That was the one thing I didn't approve of," Wilhelmina clucked, before descending down the steps to get to the carriage.

"But his hair took the longest to do!" Hans wailed from inside the carriage.

"_Schwester, warum?"_

"You're not the only one who has a say in how the Feldmarschall is dressed. Besides, you already put him in the clothes, I just took care of his hair."

Gilbert laughed out loud, walking down the steps as well. Someday, such silly times won't come by as often. Someday, Frederick will be grown and be his king. Someday, Wilhelmina will be married off to another prince or a lord and will be the mother of her children and queen of her land. Someday, he'll go with Fritz, Hans and Keith to battle and watch as boys turn into hardened soldiers -

But that someday is not today.

Right now, although they're not exactly _children _any more, they were young and trying to squeeze in as many little laughable moments like this in their lives. A small, selfish part of Gilbert wished that they could stay this young forever, but he knows all too well that time cannot be stopped. He climbed into the carriage, settling beside Hans as the three of them, including Keith, sat across their monarchs. Experience has told Gilbert that one day, his precious _family _will disappear. Watching their smiling faces as they engaged in conversation, Gilbert felt his heart clench with hurt.

Ah well, all of that is still in the distant future.

For now, Gilbert would enjoy the time he had with his prince and princess. The nation smiled to himself, looking out of the window and up at the slowly changing day sky. Once he swore to himself that he would avoid forming bonds with humans because it hurt too much when they leave. He had absolutely no regrets -

Even if he was forced to wear this obscenely frilly... Thing.

* * *

><p><strong>An idea that came to me while I was in class and reading about 1700s French court fashion plus my favourite Prussian royals. Frederick the Great was an absolute nut for all things French which probably annoyed Prussia to the core but he won't say anything about it. XD <strong>

**Gilbert really loved his little monarchs and their friends (too bad Hans dies early whoops)**

**Reviews are very much appreciated~!**


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